


Passing

by lizbetann



Series: Pike's Return [2]
Category: Buffy: The Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-25
Updated: 2003-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizbetann/pseuds/lizbetann





	Passing

_A year and a half ago..._

Amanda shifted the backpack that held the majority of her possessions, and looked around. The terminal they tumbled out of in Heathrow was institutionally dark, browns and greys and navy blue. Everyone lined up to have their passports checked as they went through security.

Pike hitched his duffelbag over his shoulder, and started pawing through it for the passports. They were bright-shiny new, and named him Pike Willis, ten-year-old Amanda Willis' much older brother. He only hoped that they didn't get arrested on their way into Great Britain for forged papers. But if Wesley was to be believed, the Watcher Council could afford to do good enough work to fool anyone.

Amanda brushed the back of her hand over her cheek, stifling a yawn. She'd learned young how to travel, knew how to catch naps on trains, buses, cuddled up against the door of a pickup while Pike sat between her and whoever he'd hitched a ride from, so that if things went south, he could protect her. Compared to that, a ten hour plane ride from LAX to London was a breeze.

Pike hadn't slept. He wasn't big into second-guessing himself, but he'd spent most of the trip doing just that. There'd been no reason to leave LA. The vampire group that had been dogging his heels since he'd picked up Amanda was gone, dead. He could have hung with Angel Investigations, could have stayed in a place he knew.

But this was supposed to be better for Amanda. He only had the little bits of information he'd been able to pick up from Merrick's books to help -- first Buffy, and now Amanda.

The Watcher Council, for all that Wesley disagreed with them in a lot of ways, had the resources to help Amanda. Pike had made it clear that they were a package deal. Amanda went no where without him.

"Relax," Amanda hissed out of the corner of her mouth. "Geez. If this sucks, we pack up and go home."

Pike grinned at her. "Sure. And we'd get the money to do that how?"

Amanda shrugged. "How'd we ever make money? These Watcher guys are loaded, right? They won't notice if we take some."

Pike dopesmacked her -- gently. "Okay, and where did you get the idea that stealing was a good idea?"

Amanda shrugged again, looking up at him innocently. "They won't miss it, right?"

"Wrong," Pike said sternly as he handed over their passports. A bored woman glanced at them, glanced at the passports, and stamped them. When Pike collected them and shoved them back in his pocket, he wondered if Amanda timed that to distract him right then. She was frighteningly alert.

She was destined to be a Slayer. So that was probably a good thing.  
One year ago...

"They are driving me fucking insane," Pike fumed.

"They seem to provoke that reaction quite often," Giles said.

They were sitting at a pizza place in Trafalgar's Square, but Pike was picking at his food instead of eating. Pushing it aside, he picked up his beer -- damned if he would call it lager -- and drank. "Everything's always, 'You don't need to know this, Mr. Willis. It would take too long to explain, Mr. Willis. I need to get the stick up my ass surgically removed, Mr. Willis.'"

Giles laughed. "I'm sure they didn't say the last."

They'd met several months after Pike and Amanda had arrived in England. Giles had been called back to California with the news that Buffy had been brought back from the dead. A few weeks later he had returned and made a report to the Watcher Council. The Watcher Council was trying desperately to pretend that the mongrel that had brought them their latest Slayer-in- Waiting could be safely ignored, so Pike had ended up crashing the meeting halfway through. He already knew that throwing a fit wasn't going to do him much good, so he found a chair, turned it around and sat, watching Mr. Rupert Giles give his report in clear, unemotional tones.

It wasn't until after they got out of the Council chamber and all of the stuffy British assholes had gone bustling off -- ignoring the American in their midst -- and Pike was about to pound on Giles verbally for being so cold about the death and revival of a girl Pike barely remembered, when Giles took off his glasses, cleaned them, and said, "Well, that was a pisser. You're Pike, right? I need a drink. Want one?"

Their alliance was an odd one. The Watcher Council didn't consider Giles a member anymore. They didn't consider Pike a member either, but since he and Amanda were living in the London headquarters it was harder to avoid him. So Pike kept Giles appraised of whatever information he needed to know.

"Damn it," Pike growled. "My name is not Willis. They know that."

"That's hardly their concern." Giles pointed out.

"They haven't booted me out on my ass, so I suppose I can't complain." Pulling the plate back, Pike began to eat.

"Your Amanda has made it quite clear where she stands. And while the Watcher Council is not accustomed to having to accommodate the wishes of a young girl, they know better than to alienate Amanda."

"The other two girls are such perfect little clones." Pike didn't add that he worried that the two girls, a few years older than Amanda, were picking on the younger girl. Amanda wouldn't say anything, but after years without any contact with anyone even close to her own age, he thought that she might have wanted to hang out with Molly and Annabelle. Instead, Amanda spent more time alone than ever. She took weapons training, studied with a tutor three hours a day, and spent another hour listening to some boring idiot lecture her on rites and rituals and mumbo-jumbo. Pike sat in on those lessons, but none of it stuck. What did it matter what happened on the third moon of the ninth day of the eleventh year of the sixth century? Fight. Kill vampires. That was what the Slayer needed.

Of course, as the Watcher Council tried to impress on him, the Watcher needed to know the book stuff. Which he really sucked at.

That's what he was scared of. Not that the Watcher Council would push him out. But that he'd look around one day and Amanda wouldn't have what she needed, because he didn't know enough.

_Two months ago..._

Pike swung off of one of the double decker red buses that London was famous for, and headed on foot for the Watcher Council's building. He'd spent the morning haunting record stores on the Strand, picking up imports, or what would be imports if he was buying them in the States.

Amanda was -- miracle of miracles -- getting a half day today. Unfortunately, Pike had a suspicion that it was because the Council was going to be in heavy-duty meetings, and he was going to have to horn in. But he'd promised Amanda that he'd get her out of the headquarters for awhile, and do whatever she wanted to. Juggling that with the meeting that he hadn't been invited to was going to be interesting, but he'd manage.

His first thought was that it was a minor earthquake. It took his brain a few stupid moments to realize duh, London, not big on the earthquakes. And that a pillar of smoke was rising a few blocks away. And British emergency vehcles with their weird sirens were headed in the direction of...

The Council building. Where Amanda was.

Pike dropped his packages and began to run.

_A year and a half ago..._

Amanda spotted the sign first. "I think we've got a ride," she said, as she headed toward a woman in a green-grey-brown suit, holding a placard that said, "Amanda Willis."

Towing the one huge suitcase that held everything they hadn't stuffed in their carry-ons, Pike followed Amanda, who had reached the woman. "Hi. I'm Amanda. You're looking for me?"

The woman lowered her sign. "You're Amanda Willis? I'm Ms. Ffolkes. Welcome to England." The woman was obviously trying to be cheerful and welcoming, but it fell flat. "And you are?" she asked Pike.

"Pike. This one's Watcher." Better to say what you mean from the beginning, right?

"Oh, you are... I mean, I don't think -- ah, yes, we knew you were coming. Welcome."

~You knew I was coming, and you wished I'd go directly to Hell, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.~ Pike thought.

Uncomfortably looking around, Ms. Ffolkes finally said, "Right. This way, then," and lead them outside to a large black car that looked big enough to hold the Lakers. "Shall we send someone for the rest of your luggage?"

"This is everything," Pike said, stowing the suitcase. "We travel light."

Someone hadn't filled this chick in on a lot of information, and she looked confused again. "Well. Good, then. Let's go." She climbed into the car, waited while Pike and Amanda joined her, and then leaned forward. "Headquarters, Julian. The Council wants to see this girl as soon as possible."

The building looked like the sort of office building Pike had seen back East, all grey stone blending into the grey sky above. They followed Ms. Ffolkes up the front stairs. "You can leave your bags there, and the porter will take them up to your rooms," she said, confident now that she was back on her home turf, never breaking stride. "Come with me."

They climbed five thousand stairs before she stopped in front of a pair of heavy wooden doors. She knocked quietly, then opened them without waiting for an answer. Walking in, she gestured Pike and Amanda in, then went to what was obviously her prepared place.

Lifting her chin, Amanda stepped forward. Maybe twenty people, most of them grey-haired guys, stared at her.

Finally, someone broke the silence. A distinguished looking man rose from his chair and stepped forward to take Amanda's hand. "Welcome to Britain, my dear. I hope you had a pleasant journey."

"It was okay," Amanda said, her voice just this side of sulky. Pike itched to smack her again. No need to make this any more difficult than necessary.

"We are very, very pleased to have you here," the man continued. "I will introduce you to everyone in due time, but for now, I am Quentin Travers. You needn't worry about a thing. All your needs will be taken care of, food, clothes," he said, with a barely-repressed sneer over Amanda's t- shirt and jeans, and Goodwill tennis shoes. "Most of the other girls who are destined to be called live in various places around the world, but two of them live here in the building. Molly and Annabelle. The three of you should get along wonderfully. We will assign you to a Watcher, of course, and --"

"I already have a Watcher," Amanda said quietly.

Travers flicked his gaze up at Pike for the first time. "I am aware that your... brother has protected you for the last six years. And we are all grateful, I'm sure. But he doesn't --"

"I already have a Watcher," Amanda said firmly. Wesley had warned them back in LA that this might happen. "He stays, I stay. He goes, I goes."

Travers tried very hard to smile charmingly. "My dear girl, I don't think you understand. You can't leave here."

"I can't?" Amanda asked with the cocky confidence that six years -- more than half her life -- had taught her. "Watch me. You think being in a different country is going to stop me? You want me to stay, Pike stays too."

_One year ago..._

"I can't learn any of that shit," Pike said.

"Of course you can," Giles said calmly. "If you tried."

"The hell I could. I dropped out of high school. How can I learn Latin and Sumerian and High-Upper-Gobboldigookian? I'm a stoner loser who can't help her."

"That's bullshit," Giles said, not raising his voice in the least. Even in the middle of his rant, Pike admired Giles' ability to make even PG-13 words sound classy.

"I don't want to hold her back. Mess her up. Maybe she'd be better off with someone like you."

"I am not currently on the Watcher Council, and if I was, they would be ordering me back to California to watch over Buffy."

"Why aren't you there?" Pike asked, wanting to distract himself from his own problems.

Giles sighed. "Many reasons. Many of them stupid. Mostly because... she thinks she needs a keeper. She doesn't." Giles leaned forward across the table. "Amanda needs you. If you always end up calling the Watcher Council for the latest translation of the Ides of Doom or what-have-you, that's one thing. But she needs someone that she depends on absolutely. In many, many ways, overwhelming arrogance is the greatest weapon a Slayer can have. Of course, it can also be her greatest downfall."

Pike poked at a puddle of water on the table. "I get so scared for her. All those years that we were on the run, I knew what to do, what I was doing. Keep her away from the bad guys, teach her to fight, over and over. Now... I don't have to dig ditches or fix cars for a living. We aren't running away from anyone. She has everything she needs. I don't know where I fit in here."

"The easy answer is, behind Amanda. The harder answer is, wherever you manage to beg, borrow, steal, or fight for a place. There needs to be a serious change in the Watcher Council, if we are going to make it into the next century. Buffy began it. I'm hoping that you and Amanda will continue it."

_Two months ago..._

"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't go there." An emergency worker blocked Pike as he tried to get to the burned-out mess that was the Watcher Council's building.

"Damnit, my sister is in there!" Pike snarled, struggling fiercely against her hold. Two more grabbed him from behind and peeled him off of the woman.

"I'm sorry, but no one is allowed in there," the woman repeated, no emotion in her voice.

Pike shrugged out of the hold, and stood on the pavement, staring at the building. Amanda was in there. Amanda, and the two other girls, and every Watcher within a reasonable distance, all of them getting together for one big pow-wow. And something blew them up.

Dazed, he sat on the curb and scrubbed his hands over his face. Amanda. Was in there. He couldn't get his mind around it. Couldn't think of her in the past tense. It wasn't Amanda *had been* in there, and now was dead. She was in there. If he could just get to her, then he could rescue her. She'd be fine. He'd get her out.

His brain spinning, Pike put his head down on his knees and made his mind blank.

_A year and a half ago..._

"A moment, if you would, Mr. Willis." Quentin Travers called out as Ms. Ffolkes led Amanda out of the meeting room.

Pike blinked at the name for a moment, then turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"We would like to know what you plan on doing here," Travers said. "Ms. Willis has made it quite clear that you are indispensable to her. So we would like to include you in the planning. What skills do you have to offer us?"

Pike stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans so that they wouldn't flap around uselessly. "I can fight."

"That's impressive," Travers said, and the very not-snottiness of his voice made it clear that he was mocking Pike. "Many of us here can fight. What else?"

"I have... I mean, I had a lot of Merrick's old books. I studied them when I could." And understood damned little. He'd passed off everything but the Watcher diaries to Angel Investigations when they left LA.

"Most of his books, other than his personal journals, were duplicates from our library. And?"

Pike's temper snapped. "Goddamnit, I've watched over her since she was four. I rescued her when the goon squad you sent in to kidnap her from her parents got slaughtered by a bunch of vampires out for her blood."

"All of which is most admirable, and makes you very loyal. However, Amanda needs guidance now. Reasoned judgement. Practical training. All of which we can offer her. What do you have that is necessary to her life now?"

"I've got her back," Pike snarled. "I give a damn whether she lives or dies. She isn't an fill-in-the-blank Slayer-of-the-day for me. She's herself. And she will be the Slayer, and she'll fight, and someday she'll die, but she won't be the little robot that you want her to be. She'll be herself, for however long she can be. And if you don't like it you can bite me."  
One year ago...

"What was the deal with Buffy?" Pike asked, eating his cold pizza. "I mean, if they were finding Amanda when she was four, and there are other girls all over the world being raised by their Watchers, why wasn't Buffy being trained until she had already been called?"

"For whatever reason, we weren't finding a lot of the girls who were potential Slayers in the Americas. A few, here and there, but it was very hit and miss. Not helped by the fact that Merrick found Buffy in Los Angeles when she was a child, and deliberately did not take her away from her family and into his care. When the Slayer before Buffy died, and no one could find the next Chosen One, Merrick finally volunteered the information. For his sins, he was saddled with the responsibility of training her."

"He thought the world of her," Pike said, grinning faintly in memory. "When he didn't want to strangle her."

"Yes, I can sympathize with that feeling. It didn't help that when I took over Buffy's training, we had no information on her but the few, infrequent reports that Merrick had sent back. Not one could find his Watcher Diaries."

"I've still got them. No one asked me for them."

Giles grinned. "You might as well keep them. Merrick was as much of a loose cannon as I turned out to be, as Wesley turned out to be as well. They aren't going to want to know what he said."

_Two months ago..._

All gone. All. Gone. All the libraries of information he had sneered at. All the people who had studied, memorized that information. Even Merrick's journals, still sitting on the shelf in the tiny room Pike had been allotted. All boom.

"Pike!" Amanda's voice called. Jerking like the strings of a puppet at the sound, Pike lifted his head, sure he was dreaming.

T-shirt, jeans, running shoes -- semi-recent ones, not secondhand rejects -- and backpack over her shoulder, Amanda was struggling her way through the crowds surrounding the cordoned-off section. "Pike!" she shrieked again. By the time she reached him, he was on his feet, clutching her to him, arms wrapped around her body and shaking.

Amanda was trying to talk, in little bursts between sobbing breaths. "We snuck out, all three of us. No one was looking. Molly and Annabelle went for the Underground, I don't know where they are, but they're around here somewhere. But I heard the explosion, and I knew you were heading back, but I didn't know if you'd gotten there or where you were, and --"

She stopped as though cut off, and just stood there, catching her breath. Pike put her down, grabbed her hand, and they started walking away from the disaster area.

Pike made one call on his way. He stopped at a Sainsbury and called Giles to fill him in. "I'll come to London and look for the two girls," Giles said, his voice straining for calm. "There are a few other people I need to check on first. I will bring whoever I can to Sunnydale. Whatever is going on is far greater than just one person can handle."

"Sunnydale," Pike said. "Buffy. Right. California, here we come."

_Now_

It had taken them weeks to get to California. Their passports had been blown up, and they had no money. They'd finally made it across the Atlantic on a freighter, Pike working for their passage. It had put in somewhere in Delaware, and then their path across the States was weirdly familiar; odd jobs, hitching when it seemed safe, walking a lot. He almost went straight to LA, but he'd told Giles they'd go to Sunnydale, and so Sunnydale it was.

The pretty house was screamingly suburban, as unlikely a setting for evil as Pike could imagine. Amanda beside him, they walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

The girl who answered looked at him for a few long moments. She was pretty, young, blonde and serious. Then her mouth dropped open. "Oh, my God. Pike."

Pike tried to crack a grin. "Long time no see, Summers." And then he gave up, stepped forward, and hugged her hard enough to make her ribs crack. She wrapped her arms tight around him and hugged him back even harder.

Buffy stepped back and beamed at him, the sunny Summers cheerleader smile he remembered. "What are you doing here?"

Over her shoulder he could see a few girls in the living room, Molly among them. Probably all Slayers-to-be, he guessed. Putting his hands on Amanda's shoulders, he said, "Got another one for you. Any room for us?"

Buffy looked at the twelve-year-old girl, nodded, then stepped back. "Come on in. We've got a war to win."

THE END


End file.
